


arms outstretched

by ironiccowboykink (orphan_account)



Category: Trollhunters
Genre: Bular and Gunmar are alive, Canon Divergence, Cleaning things up as i go, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Probably a little OOC, Uhhhhhh?, Yes the title is TAZ, because i couldn’t bear to have him not... alive, i love the song, so is Angor Rot :Y, so there’s that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 07:49:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13519767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ironiccowboykink
Summary: You’re new to Arcadia high, running from a mysterious past. There’s a strange scroll connected to you and everything you wanted to avoid.Common Trollhunter traits include being broken like a shattered pot, and since you’re very transparently and poorly glued together, you’ll fit in just fine. The Puberty Patrol gets a fourth member.





	arms outstretched

The Trollhunters had been on a stakeout at this kid’s house for hours. 

The scroll Draal had handed Jim earlier was glinting ominously in the moonlight, and he studied the image. It depicted a person thrusting a glowing bow into the air with what Jim felt was a triumphant yell. But it’s also a scroll, and scroll-silhouettes (scrollhouettes?) aren’t very good at being expressive or depicting people in any sort of helpful manner.

Jim was sure this was the right house, if only by Claire and Toby’s constant complaining; they were not so quietly trash talking the person they saw moving about the window, Toby occasionally snacking on some apples his grandma made him bring along.

“I bet their hair is as fake as they are,” Toby scoffed, splayed out apathetically in the grass. “And they’re pretty fake, so you know that’s a lot.”

Claire nodded, scoffing with a smile right back. “No one even knows why they moved here. Or when! She just showed up, and walks around like she owns the place.”

Toby gasped dramatically, sitting upright quickly. “Oooh, a scandal in the works?”

Claire nodded again, unproportionally triumphant for someone gossiping with only rumors to back it up. “You never know, Toby. Maybe she’s _crazy._ I heard she likes to fight.”

“No way!” Toby laughed.“They’re probably crazy! They’re—“

“Guys,” Jim interrupted quickly, sending a glare their way. “I’m sure they’re nice. They seem nice. Besides, we’re the last people who should be talking about crazy.” He shuffled forward past the bushes, peeking up at your window. “We hunt _Trolls,_ guys. Trolls.”

Toby blew a raspberry. “Aw, whatever. You just haven’t met ‘em yet.”

“Yeah, Jim,” Claire added, looking slightly irritated. “They’re a real pain. She doesn’t talk to people much, so you wouldn’t know, but— god,” she hissed, clutching her staff. “they’ve said some real nasty stuff to me before.”

“And me too!” Toby said, crossing his arms like a toddler. “I once asked ‘em for their number, and they stared at me for a solid minute before saying they didn’t like me, so no.”

“Really?” Jim’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

Suddenly looking sheepish, Toby fiddled with his fingers. “Actually, they told me they didn’t know me and wouldn’t be comfortable with my number in their phone. But still! They’re a bit—“

“Toby!” 

“—bit of a handful,” he finished smoothly, as if he were not about to say something completely different. 

“Look at her!” Jim gestured to the window, where you could be seen singing to a faintly audible song crooning from what Jim thought to be a radio set up by her windowsill. “Do you even know her name?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “No way, Jim. I told you already. She’s mean and shrouded in mystery. Speaking of mysteries, will they _ever_ come outside?”

“Probably not,” Toby grumped. “she’s reclusive.”

“So why are we even—“ and then, in a flash, the curtain to your window flew up, and instinctively all three Trollhunters hit the ground.

There you stood in all your glory, fists clenched at your side. 

You looked pissed.

As Jim peered through the bushes, he saw you swipe something off your dresser and then stomp down the stairs. “Get ready, everyone,” he warned.

There was a _boom!_ to their left and there you were, holding a blue pair of scissors in one hand and clutching your shirt with the other. You didn’t say anything, nothing at all, just carefully made your way across the garage, tip toeing on bare feet. 

Frankly, you were scared, even wielding your scissors at the ready. You stopped at the threshold of the garage. “It’s okay,” Jim heard you whisper. “...not out there.”

You went forward still, peering into the darkness. Jim could see you tremble even from his position. Your teeth chattered loudly and you seemed to realize this, clamping your mouth shut and blowing out puffs of white. Your shoulders were hunched and your arms were held up defensively over your chest, and the way you walked indicated quite obviously that you were ready to run.

Jim watched you with curious eyes, watched you step on the flats of your feet and bounce restlessly on your heels as you surveyed your surroundings.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” you sing-songed, but the fear in your voice made Jim’s insides curl. They were here to recruit you, and instead you were terrified. Even if you were an awful person like Claire and Toby said, you don’t deserve to be so scared.

Jim turned to his team. “Follow my lead.” He stood slowly, clanking loudly in his armor. “Hi, my name is Jim. Jim Lake Jr.” He held out his hand. “I go to school with you.”

You shrieked, grip tightening on the scissors before whipping around and connecting the dots.

There was a moment of silence, you staring curiously at Jim’s outstretched hand before taking it. “No, yeah, I know you guys,” you said breathily, jittery and no less scared. “you’re Jim, she’s Claire Nuñez, and that’s,” You pointed, sounding more accusatory than you wanted. “Toby Domzalski. I know who you are.”

“What’d you say it like that for?” Toby scowled, crossing his arms defensively. He started to say something else but when you couldn’t meet his eyes and shrugged helplessly, Jim mouthed for him to just drop it.

“Do you… know who I am? Or…” you asked, debating internally whether you should shank him with the scissors and bolt, or if you should just continue being pathetically diplomatic for brownie points.

“Uhhhh,” Jim looked back at Claire, who raised an eyebrow, and then at Toby, who also sassily raised an eyebrow. “Right, uh. That’s a no. Buuuut if you would just… como sé dice, let us know, I am sure I would then know what your name is.”

The expression on your face motioned from terrified to thunderous and you hissed, “So you come to my house trying to— what?” You gestured at Jim furiously. “What are you even here for? Why the fuck are you in armor?”

Jim shrugged helplessly, plastering a sheepish, ashamed smile on his face. “You have every right to be upset,” he began, but you had already pivoted on your heel and started storming away.

“Alright, you weirdos can get off my lawn now,” you called back, feeling supremely weirded out, but mostly irritated. “since I’m about three seconds from calling the police. I’d like to give you a running start, because I’m benevolent like that.”

“You’re bluffing!” Claire said, gesturing towards her. “You don’t have pockets.” 

You looked down and scowled, but kept walking. “Then I’ll watch you all get arrested from the safety of my own home.”

“Wait!” Jim jogged up to you, catching your elbow. You yanked it away, shaking terribly.

“Please don’t—“ 

Jim thrust the scroll in your face, saying quickly, “Look. We figured out it’s you on the scroll. The outline looks just like you, and see this text here? It describes you. It can’t be anybody other than you. And—and— this scroll, it’s a prophecy— you’re supposed to help us defeat this…” Jim fumbled for words, humming discontentedly before settling on “great evil.”

“That’s me.”

“Yes.”

“On that scroll. That silhouette on that scroll, which is entirely black and has only white slivers for an expression, looks like me.”

Jim cringed. “...yes.”

You started fidgeting, gaze flickering up to him before it flitted back to the scroll. “So what you’re telling me is that I get a… bow?” Your nose wrinkled. “That’s on fire, or—or something, and I get to help you defeat a—“

“Great evil,” Jim finished, staring intently at your face while you adamantly avoided his gaze. “I can explain everything to you in a little bit, but we have to get somewhere safe. Come with us. What’s your name, by the way?”

You looked up at him, expression unreadable as you said slowly, “(Y/N).”

Toby chuckled but Claire elbowed him, and your expression visibly soured. When you started to back up towards your house Jim’s heart dropped to his stomach, and he reached out for you. You jumped back violently, curling your lip in what Jim could only interpret as disgust.

You stared all three of them down, hugging your arms. “You’re all crazy, that’s what you are. I thought at least— maybe Claire— um—“ You swallowed thickly, looking vulnerable and not wanting to say ‘I didn’t think Claire of all people would be crazy. Jim and Toby? Definitely” right to their faces. “I don’t want to participate in your weird LARPing routine.”

“(Y/N)—“ Jim sighed, reaching out for you again.

You turned and sprinted to your house, scrabbling under the semi-open garage door and entering your house with a slam.  
——  
You didn’t speak to them the next day. You didn’t even glare at them like you usually did; you passed through the halls like they were invisible, but the tell-tale hitch in your breath gave your away. Every time Jim, Toby, or Claire, tried to speak to you, though, you ignored them. Pointedly.

The only time you spoke was when Toby had pulled you around the corner to try and convince you to just give them a chance, that what was happening was real— you stared down at him, eyes black in the shadows, and hissed darkly, “No.”

Toby surrendered convincing duty after that.

Now it was lunch, and they were watching you as you picked over your food alone.

“Maybe we should go over there,” Claire said, taking a bite of her sandwich. “she sheems lonely.”

“And it would be a good chance to talk,” Toby added, rummaging around in the paper bag Jim brought for him.

Jim watched you sigh. “Yeah, but (Y/N) doesn’t really wanna talk to us. Can’t imagine why.” He rolled his eyes.

“You did sound pretty crazy yesterday.” Toby said around a mouthful of apple, nodding solemnly at him before jerking his head in her direction. “Buut they likes you the most, so go on over there.”

“What!” Jim objected, drawing the gaze of several irked students. “Why me?”

“Because they’re terrifying, and I won’t do it.” Toby yanked him up by the arm and hauled him out of his seat, patting him affectionately on the shoulder before pushing him in her direction. 

Claire smiled and sang, “Good luck!” but the second Jim’s back was turned she plopped her face in her hands and muttered, “boyfriend stealer.”

Toby sighed. “I hear you, sister.”  
——  
When Jim sat down, you tried your hardest not to look at him.

He looked weary and kind and unsure and for a moment your heart softened, beating rapidly like a hummingbird in your chest before skipping a great many beats as he sighed softly, tapping his fingers on the tables as he tried to think of something to say.

Maybe you wanted adventure. Maybe you just liked Jim. Maybe you wanted something that made you feel big and strong again, that let you triumph even if you were scared; either way, you blurted out, “I want to believe you.”

He looked a mix of shocked and miffed, and a tad bit skeptical. “You… do?”

You nodded, swallowing harshly. “I just— how can I? You say, ah, that there’s something out there, that we—I— I guess not we, anymore— need to be be defended from, um… I just— you understand how crazy and— and vague this sounds, right?” You scrunched up your shoulders, tensing up by the minute. “You didn’t… you haven’t explained anything to me. Who— what are we fighting?”

“Okay, relax, for one.” Jim smiled, patting the table in front of you consolingly. “But I can’t explain things here. You’ll have to come with me after school.”

“After school?” You squeaked. “With you? Where are we going?”

He looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Trollmarket.” He whispered conspiratorially, followed by a thousand-watt, trickster smile.

You let out a shuddering sigh. Oh god, they may just be crazy after all. “Okay. Okay. So if I understand what you’re saying, you want me to go with you, a bunch of strangers, to this “Trollmarket.” Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to go to a second location?”

“That’s with pedophiles!” He spluttered, face reddening. “We’re the same age!”

“And for how long, Jim Lake Jr.?” You eyed him suspiciously before breaking into a smile, and he relaxed. 

“Besides,” Jim continued. “you don’t have much a choice. If anybody else were to find out who you are— if the wrong people were the find out who you are— they’d kill you.”

You sucked in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut and saying, “Then I’ll just have to get them before they get to me, now won’t I, Jim Lake Junior?” You flickered one eye open, waiting to see if he had any more to say.

Jim simply nodded, flashing you an awkward smile and a thumbs up.

Satisfied, you waved him away to finally eat your lunch.  
——  
The Trollhunters found you waiting for them outside the school, shivering as the cold wind whipped around. Expression neutral, you gestured towards the street with your head and mumbled, “After you.”

So they started walking. Or, rather, you ran while the three of them rode— Jim went slow to make sure you would be able to keep up, but Claire and Toby rode ahead, though out of spite or out of impatience he didn’t know.

“Can I just ride with you?” You puffed about halfway there, billowing misty steam with each breath. “I just— I think it would be easier.”

Jim braked to a stop, allowing you to clamber on. He felt you sigh, chest heaving as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He could hear the smile in your voice when you leaned over and whispered, “Now gun it. I want Claire and Toby to eat our dust.”

He laughed. “That wouldn’t be very fair.”

“Who cares about fair?” You wiggled in your seat, and if you knew you were upsetting the Vespa’s balance you didn’t say anything, instead humming discontentedly as you tried to stretch past Jim to see Claire and Toby. 

“Look at ‘em, all happy and shit up there,” You grumbled. “gun it, dude. Pedal to the medal. If you won’t do it, I will.” you warned, and pressed forward to reach for the handle.

“Woah, woah, alright!” Jim slapped your hand away and revved the engine, whooping once before shooting forward like a bullet, careening past his friends.

You gave them the finger as you went by.

“Last one to the Bridge is a rotten egg!” Jim called.

Toby laughed, already booking it after Jim. “Oh, it is on like Donkey Kong!” 

Claire squawked in protest and hurried up after, delighted. “Wait for me!” She called, but had passed Toby by the time she was done speaking and blew him a raspberry.  
——  
Naturally, Jim got there long before his friends, despite the minor bump in which you fell asleep and nearly tumbled off the Vespa. 

“Sorry,” you had slurred, voice thick with sleep. “Motor vehicles make me tired.” You had clung to him tightly despite your limbs being heavy and loose with sleep (because falling off would be a borderline disaster), rubbing your face against his back in what he thinks was an attempt to wake.

The only other person who had held him this closely was Claire, and he hadn’t even been dating her for long, and maybe that’s why his face felt so warm. He’s just not used to contact is all. Yeah… 

...Anyway, you’re under the Bridge now. 

You’re pacing nearby but pointedly facing him; you seem impatient and tense, but when Claire and Toby come flying over the edge of the bridge she relaxes minutely, though you cringe as they crash to the ground. 

“Alright, so what is it you wanted to show me or— or take me, or whatever?” Despite your body language, guarded and unsure, you sound genuinely curious.

Jim smiles and looks at Claire, who rolls her eyes and scoffs, pulling a glowing orange crystal out her pocket. She draws a semi-circle and places a hand smack dab in the middle, smiling triumphantly.

You stare in awe as the concrete wall cracks and light spills out.

“Welcome,” Claire says with flourish, “to Trollmarket.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sigh  
> Yeah  
> It’s jumpy, duh. I wasn’t writing this with the intention to post. The scroll’s origins was explained in my head, obviously, because I intended only for me to see it. Though I guess if I ever feel like continuing the story outside my head I will probably get around to retconning the scroll somewhere in canon.
> 
> Edit: I am cleaning things up! !!


End file.
